VV as opposed to VV
by Simpli
Summary: Now following from me: the only good thing coming out of watching the Arise movies series. or: How one minor character, interferes with a major character of (nearly) the same name.


**VV as opposed to V.V.**

* * *

 _Now following from me: the only good thing coming out of watching the Arise movies + series.  
or:_  
How one minor character, interferes with a major character of (nearly) the same name.

* * *

 **= Paris – France – Europia United =**

 **2014 a.t.b September/ RY 225, Vendèmiaire**

Ludovic Barnier exited the Hôtel de Brienne with two of his aides and four visible bodyguards -how many more were moving in the background was an information not even he himself had- after another long session with the Minster of Foreign Affairs and International Development Jasenka Lalic. Four years now…

It had been four years since his predecessor as Minister of Defence had to step down over the aftermath of the occupation of Indochina and the following _Oriental Incident_ : the blockade of Britannia`s harbours by the E.U., the Chinese Federation and the still independent Japan. It had been a disaster: instead of being willing to negotiate once more, the Holy Britannian Empire had not only introduced their new war machines -"Knightmares"-, but also used them to conquer Japan and the surrounding islands in little less than a month, as convenient forces were overwhelmed in the second Pacific War.

What had been intended as a show of strength, had quickly devolved into an open conflict as Britannian Units landed in Namibia and overwhelmed a number of coastal Garrisons, before quickly moving elements could contain them once more and push them back into the sea. But the damage was simply done to quickly: with Japan conquered and turned into another area, the public of the EU turned against those, which had devised the initial plan. Having failed their "bloodless" approach and being accused of having provoked Britannia into a war, the government "Viselier, Black, Omàr" was pushed out of the national assembly in a snap election, which happened in the late Frimaire of the Revolutionary Year 221. Now the weather was already getting colder in the early Vendèmaiaire of 225 and Barnier pulled his coat closer around himself as they crossed the courtyard and moved walked past the APC`s that were covering the ministry in the case of an Britannian attack: it had been a hard lesson to learn that the "Holy" Empire, didn`t hesitate to use bombs and poison on those men and woman, who would try to stem the tide of their expansion.

Stepping through the portal and onto the Rue Saint-Dominique, Minister Barnier waved his guards to the side, his aid stepping forward and opening the door of the already waiting car. Slipping in, he checked his clock and nodded towards the driver and then his assistant -Kelile Issa, who had studied in France and came from Ethiopia-, who had taken the co-driver seat, leaving him alone in the back. Without even as so much as a small jolt the Sakuradite powered car took off and slipped into the traffic that filled the streets of Paris: Capital of Europia United since the days of Napoleon Bonaparte.

The two cars that slid in behind and in front of his own, were merely more of the protection detail, that followed each minister since President Johansen had been found death in his own office in 218 and no cause of death had been identified for sure. Over the years the assassinations had become more daring…and better organized: leading to the increased security across Paris. In the end the fear of ending up as another mysterious death as soon as you started to lobby for more effective measures against Britannia, had been another factor that slowed down the armament that had been desperately needed in the last years and even today the states of Africa, which had aligned themselves with E.U. were not as fortified as the initial plans had envisioned when they had become part of Europa United.

Leaning backwards into his seat and shifting his tie into place once more -more out of habit then out of real need- Barnier looked down surprised as his phone started to ring. The surprise soon melted from his features, replaced by tender warmth as he peered at the name displayed on it: Jezebel. It had been some days since he had last been with her and the children and little Amanda was going to have her eighth birthday in a week or two. With a fond smile, he accepted the call and activated the privacy setting of the car: a soundproof wall going up between his seat and those of the driver and co-driver.

"Jezebel love, why are you calling? Didn`t I promise you that we would meet on Saturday in the Theatre?"

A laugh was his first reply and he froze as he compared the bemused sound, to the lovely small sounds his Jezebel did when he made her laugh. A cold pit was forming in his stomach as he clutched the phone tighter and demanded:

"Who are you? How did you get that phone!"

"Minister Barnier…please calm down.", the voice purred, sending a small shiver up his spine…which was quickly dosed again by the fear for his love, as the woman on the other end of the call continued:

"I`m merely using the number: Miss Jezebel Slezak does not know me and we were never any contact. You can be assured that your mistress and offspring are in no danger from me."

Starting to sweat, the minister reached down and pulled out a handkerchief, still keeping the privacy setting on as he couldn`t risk others knowing about his sweet Jezebel, not while he was still holding the office. Right now it would prove disastrous if someone from the Alliance of Liberal Conservatives would take over and stop his new arms contracts in the tracks, then that would mean that…

"Calm down minister Barnier. I`m not trying to threaten you in anyway, I would prefer it if you would see this as a friendly warning."

His lips curled up in a sneer as he listened to that smug voice, his hand clenching around the phone and his face starting to turn red with anger. Something that wasn`t defused in any way as soft laughter came out of the phone once more:

"Minister…that does not look healthy. A man with your medical history shouldn`t be angered this quickly: your pulse is rising far too fast and the colour of your face isn´t looking healthy either."

Barnier nearly slammed the phone against the window as he looked down and saw the small light next to the integrated camera glowing, the lens adjusting with a small snap and his mysterious caller once more showing that something was terribly off: after all this was a type of phone developed by the Intelligence service and cleared for members of government. He did reign himself in and didn`t squash the phone against the window, but his anger was still palpable as he snarled angrily:

"Who are you! Who are you working for? Britannia? The Chinese Federation? The Africans or Arabs? Or are you one of the Russian separatists!"

Once more only soft laughter was his reply and as his hands formed fists, he rasped with the fear for his beloved:

"Who is paying you to shadow Jezebel?!"

A soft sigh could be heard from the other side and suddenly his left leg was pushed to the side as the fridge that was integrated into the middle of the back seat, opened without him doing anything and the voice said dryly:

"You should take a drink and calm down Mr. Barnier. As I said before: I do not mean you any harm and neither am I interested in unveiling your affair with Miss Slezak. But as I said before, this is a friendly warning: Someone else is already shadowing her and your children, with the intent to use them as blackmail material against you."

Grudgingly the minister looked down at the fridge and then shook his head, before reaching down and grasping one of the water bottles and raising it to his lips: calming down ever so slightly as the cool liquid also served to cool his temper.

"And who would…"

He began once more, as he set down the bottle, his mind calmer as her hands moved to the side of the car, trying to press the button that would disengage the privacy mode and painstakingly taking care, that the camera wasn`t pointing forward ever so slightly. The voice didn`t seem to notice anything and simply continued:

"None of those you already listed. The team, which is right now observing Miss Slezak and her three children is part of the military intelligence for the German State Army."

Barnier pressed against the button…once…twice…at the third time he was growing nervous, but not only because his car wasn`t reacting to his instructions anymore, but also because he couldn`t discount the possibility that the voice was saying the truth – it wasn`t likely but the doubt had been placed in his mind:

"If and only If I would really entertain that notion, would you be able to tell me -with proof-why the German State Army would do something like that?"

Once more that bemused laughter as she woman on the other end replied off handed:

"Easy: They feel left out by your new military build-up, as most of the new technology and the larger number of Knightmares are getting delivered to the Spanish and French Army: they might use Jezebel to make you endorse a more…equal distribution of the military funding."

This was…this was making an alarming amount of sense. The other armies had been grumbling when his ministry had set forward the new build up, with the aim to improve the defensive capabilities of the western countries, but for them to try blackmailing him? He didn`t want to believe it, but it was a frightening possibility.

"Can you prove that? It`s a rather daring accusation towards our armed forces that you just made – so is it only nonsense or can you prove any of it?"

Instead of an answer, his question was only answered by a series of rapid clicking sounds as the doors of his car unlocked -he hadn`t even noticed them locking-, the fridge moved back into its position beneath the seats and the privacy shield between him and the drivers moved downwards and stopped with a soft click. His assistant turned around and looked at Barniers still slightly discoloured face worriedly:

"Minister? Are you alright?"

Reaching up and absently pulling his tie into place once more, using a handkerchief to brush the sweat that had gathered on his neck away and lightening his collar barely, Barnier wanted to tell Issa to immediately set someone onto the mysterious caller he just had, but in this moment the phone came to life once more:

"In your stead I wouldn`t tell Monsieur Issa of our little chat minister, especially in light of who the number I`m currently using belongs to."

Even now the voice seemed totally unworried and that was making him more worried than anything else, either a madwoman had been able to hack into his telephone and car…or a dangerously competent and confident woman had just done so. Raising his left hand up to his ear and tapping it lightly with two fingertips, before doing a small circle with fingertips, he quickly tried to convey the situation towards his assistant, without revealing what was happening to the caller.

"Now this was a terrible idea minister.", a soft mocking sigh followed on this: "Now Mr. Morais is going to tell his handlers about out little chat and I had such hope that I would stay our little secret.",

A teasing tone had crept into the voice, together with some smugness as Barnier started to look around to find out just how the caller had spotted his signs…and his hearth nearly stopped as he looked outside…right into the lens of a surveillance camera that belonged to the Moroccan Embassy they were just moving past. The camera was above the ground, but position in just the way to look into his car and as it continued to move, he could watch other camera`s doing the same: stopping their normal routines and instead shifting their focus onto him. If Kelile noticed anything, he didn`t show: instead he was already using the emergency radio in the co-driver seat to put the Intelligence Agency of Europe onto this mysterious caller.

"Who are you?", the minister asked simply in a try to buy the agents, who should be on the case by now, some time to follow the call and get to the bottom of this breach of security. The woman on the other end simply laughed once more:

"Give it some time Minister Barnier: I would offer to introduce myself over a glass of wine: Oddero Barolo would be after your taste, or? You do have a preference for reds, don`t you~"

His hands had already tightened around the phone as she not only correctly identified his favourite vintage of red wine, but also the last words…Jezebel had red hair, did the caller…most likely…grinding his teeth against another, he rasped:

"Hacking into the appliances of a governmental representative is a crime under Union law, if you identify yourself and notify the appropriate institutions of your crime the consequences will be less severe than your currently stubborn behaviour would entail."

Only laughter answered him as the call was ended and his eyes could only look at the startled expression on his assistant's face, as he listened to the call from the counterintelligence bureau and could only shake his head at the minister's question gaze.

 **= Tengger Desert - Inner Mongolia - Chinese Federation =**

It wasn`t common for the leaders of the Geass Order being called together and it was even less common for all of them to appear at such a meeting. One couldn`t really say, just what had motivated them to do just that, but the small chamber slowly filled with robed figures: tall and small, female and male, old and young. Some even appeared in the older white robes the order had worn under their last director, in times that had been filled with research and a certain disinterest from above, as long as they didn`t endanger anyone else in the city. For some the old white coloured robes were a sign of traditions…and to a degree even loyalty to the green haired immortal that once lead them: before the Geass Orders priorities were once more shifted under their newest direction. Thought Elevators and Assassins, Assassins and Thought Elevators: The Geass Oder had become a tool for the Britannian Emperors aim and not a small number of them didn`t mind. After all: who else could say, that they partook in a project more ambitions than the death of God?

Most of the people currently seated around the table, which as illuminated by the violet of the large thought Elevator, which dominated the cityscape on the outside, were researchers: they would never have a Geass themselves, but they had become expert's in the "production" and research of the phenomena. The first part of the research was the one, which had flourished the most under a new director, who was unafraid of creating new contracts: that most of those contractors either died when testing their manifestation of Geass or when send out on missions was simply annoying and nothing more. But even with this more "practical" approach to Geass, those invested into the research of Geass could still count on more funding and expertise than they had dared to dream of only decades ago.

But this wasn't the issue today. The mood was tense, at least between those of the Order, who did look up from their books from time to time, unlike their more oblivious colleague's. As everyone found a seat, the door on the opposite wall of the room opened and a young boy with long blonde hair walked out. Seemingly bored eyes regarded the gathered heads of the order, before he started to walk towards the head of the table, those closest to it evading eye contact with the immortal boy. Under different circumstances the way he came to sit would have been a reason for mirth: as all chairs were produced in the same way they all were of the same height too. This lead to the boys head peeking just barely over the table and his feet were dangling over the ground, while his arms could only be put down on the leanings of the chair. But no one laughed especially not at the expense of the Director, whose Brother of the Emperor of Britannia, his oldest partner, immortal and the dispenser for Grass to the special assassins they had helped create for the Empire...and the plan.

Two violet eyes that were bare of any emotion, than thinly veiled disinterest, swept over the gathered and V2 director of the Grass Order said in a dangerously low voice:

"We have been compromised and our facilities subjected to damage, that delayed our progress towards Ragnarok for a minimal time. Could you explain how his situation came to be, Seeker Alister?

The way the word "minimal" was said – in the same tone one would usual speak of deathly sins- left little interpretation to what mood the immortal was in. All eyes went towards a thin woman sitting on the left end of the table, as far away from everyone else as possible. The white robes she was wearing identified her as a member of the traditionalist faction in the Order, but today it served to show ho similar the colour of her face was to it. Reaching down and pulling out a small control, she activated a screen on the wall before them, showing a burnt out and black laboratory, with a towering construction towering in the middle, similar to an arch but made out of formerly polished metal and a jungle of wires and dials. Just like the computers that lined the wall, the Arch was burned out and most of the wires were nothing more than charcoal and a few puddles of copper. Taking a small breath Alister began:

"This is laboratory of Acolyte Dresner, who had taken materials from the stores for a personal project. As far as we can see the so called "Arch" was constructed with those and then added to our energy net. We are currently believing, that it was the Arch, which used most of our energy generation, at the moment of he "anamoly", as we called the phenomena that led to a city wide black out."

Those two violett orbs looked at her once more and said in a misleadingly childish inquiry:

"Have you found out the exact nature of this...anomaly? "

The woman shifted ever so slightly and the picture changed, showing the same Arch, but this time it was unburned and some kind of...effect was shimmering in between it. Then the picture shifted once more, becoming grey and grainy as it lost quality. But something was plain to see: before the arch was a female figure, clad in a tight suit and with her face on the floor: looking as if she just fell out of the Arch. After this the picture dissolved into static and Dresner turned around to face the Director once more:

"The source of the anomaly was most likely the Arch, while the anomaly itself was an intruder. As soon as she manifested inside the city, we were confronted with system wide errors and crashes through our computer system: our grid is still fluctuating in places and for some time we were worrying about the ventilation that brings the breathable air down to us. Roughly fourteen minutes after the first detection of the anomaly, the intruder left the city and disappeared from our grid."

The diminutive immortal narrowed his eyes and said in a slow measured voice:

"You are telling me that a single intruder was able to not only appear in our city through means unknown, but also to escape it in less than fourteen minutes? Evading the forces of the gathered Geass Order?"

Around the table the robed figures shifted a bit uncomfortably and looked at one another, before small nods spread from one to another, Dresner finally taking the lead once more, as she said in a light and completely calm voice:

"That`s correct Director. The few security Forces in place, were unable to even see the intruder let alone engage her. Other patrols trying to intercept her were unable to reach the projected path as camera systems were turned off or co-opted, while electronic doors and looks were sealed and didn`t recognize their authorization codes and cards. Three researchers, whose rooms the Intruder must have crossed to reach her destination have reported to have seen nothing at all, two of them might be excused by being too deeply in their studies, but the third reports having just gotten another cup of coffee when the door to his laboratory opened seemingly on its own, just before something or rather someone pushed open the window. We are fairly sure, that this was the way the intruder escaped from the pursuit in the High Energy Experimentation Centre and moved towards the emergency exit station."

On the screen, the picture had shifted towards a top-down view of the city they were working in, the thought elevator in the middle and the rest of the buildings build in a circular pattern around it, with one of the being labelled HEC and dominating the northern wall of the underground cave that was giving the necessary space for the city, while a station and a tunnel in the west were creatively labelled as EES. The next change on the projection, was a thin red line, which originated fromt the HEC and went towards the EES, but not in a straight line, instead the path laid out before the onlookers was moving in ever changing directions and a three dimensional representation would surely have been even more confusing. The intruder had seemingly gone out of her way to let her movements appear random, but the next slide made clear why: Every time the intruder changed directions, it was done to evade another patrol of the security forces, but at one or two occasions the approximately guessed path seemed to go right through them! Dresner could only look at the director silently and point at the slide:

"Twenty security teams were dispatched all in all: non of them was able to confront the intruder and three teams got wiped out by he explosion of the emergency station. Before that happened the train to the EU was activated with a fake emergency protocol and the intruder escaped with it."

As the recounting of the event came to an end, everyone could only wait for the verdict of the Director, who might be close to sixty, but still had the body...and to an degree the behavior of a ten year old. Together with his power over he Geass Order, this made his Temper Tantrum's a danger for everyone involved. But instead of taking this failure and pushing it into the corner of the old guard, he seemed to be content to ask:

"What do you make of that?"

Staring back at those purple orbs for a moment, Dresner didn't hesitate to say:

"A Geass using Operative no doubt: no one else would...should have been able enough to infiltrate our city and escape unopposed. Lady CC might have send her new contactee to check on our..."

"Twenty-one."

The woman stopped in the middle of her -hopeful- theory and looked at the director confused: "Pardon, Sir?"

The immortal looked at her with a bemused expression as he hopped out of his chair and walked towards the projection on his wall, long blonde hair bruahing over the floor. With a intrigued expression, he tapped against the emergency exit station and said:

"There were twenty-one teams out to stop the intruder. The last one was made up by three of our trainees and one of them was able to see the intruder, before being eliminated like the two others."

A chill went through the room as his lips curled up in a wide smile and his hand were clasped behind his back as he regarded everyone cheerfully:

"The last of our agents attempted to use her Geass on the intruder and was unable to do so: it wasn't cancelled: it simply didn't work!"

The way his smile became even wider did nothing to calm the worries of those in the council, that had still doubts: deeply hidden and in some cases buried beneath false memories or worse. But the eager glint in those purple eyes still made them shiver, as he asked:

"Another Code-Bearer has given herself away as spectacular as this."

The projection on the wall changed to the final image displaying the smoking rubble, that has once been the station of the tunnel leading towards the EU. The train was missing and all pursuit impossible, while their system was still down and they couldn't contact the guards on the other end of that line. V2 watched the image eagerly:

"Another Immortal for Ragnarok: she will be in the Eu, but we need to find out, just who..."

 **= Paris – France – Europia United =**

 **A few days later.**

"...you are!"

The voice of minister Barnier was forcibly calm through clenched teeth, while the woman across from him peaked over her menu with a bemused twinkle in her blue eyes, as she replied in a voice that had him worrying for days the first time he had heard it:

"Minister, I'm quite sure, that I promised to share my name over a glass of your favourite wine. I hope this little rearranging of your schedule doesn't impede you too much?"

The sweetly mocking voice, was heating up his temper once more, but a small gesture of hers towards the rest of the restaurant and the fashioned society of the Capital, which was always eager to hear a new scandal. Taking his own menu to hide his frown, he looked down at the clock: 18:15. It had looked far easier on his appointment schedule: simply talking with one of the journalists from a news agency that was close to their government and outlining the points of his reform, after it had been under fire from multiple directions, as soon as it was brought up. Arriving as soon as he was out of the last parliamentary workgroup he was part of, his assistant had accompanied him to the restaurant, while briefing him on the journalist he expected to meet: a woman named Vivienne Voss. The card had read, that she had been a member of the agency for some years and after his first surprise at never having had an interview with her, it had quickly been explained by additional information, which showed her as an oversea reporter, who hadn`t been in Europa United for some time.

He might have been an -unluckily- married man, but at least one with a loving mistress and a "wife" being just as uninterested in him as he was in her, but he could still feel himself smiling as he took a seat opposite of the journalist and examine her for a moment. Blue eyes looking back at him friendly, with a soft smile on dark red lips and a lock of blonde hair playfully reaching down into her face as she looked back at him and greeted him. At this moment his eyes had broken away from the little mole on her chin and back to her, as she calmly smiled at him…her voice once more remembering him of the incident a few days ago.

This was the reason, why he was currently sitting across from the damnable woman, waiting for her to answer his question and finally tell him, who she was. For her part the journalist…if that truly was, who she claimed to be, simply gave him another of that insufferable smiles and tilted her head to the side:

"So minister? I see that Monsieur Issa isn`t in your employ anymore?"

Gripping the fabric of his expensively tailored pants tightly, he glared into her eyes, not wanting to give her the satisfaction, of acknowledging, that his assistant had been another mole…for someone in the military, as soon as they had started to research his background more closely the man had simply disappeared from Paris and everyone claimed to have never seen him leave. Glaring at her, Barnier pressed out between clenched teeth:

"What…do you want? Why are you doing this?"

Her face took on a shadow of confusion for a moment, her blue eyes getting a faraway glance…. before they fixated on him once more and she smiled thinly:

"I`m doing this because the voices of the Angels tell me."

At that answer the minister could only stare, before scoffing and saying annoyed:

"You are hearing voices? Like the Maid of Orleans?"

To his discomfort the mad-woman only seemed to muse about the question for a moment before giving him an earnest shrug:

"I can`t exclude this possibility: who knows what else the Angels might have been up to? After all our work for them is never done."

Sinking a little into his chair and cursing whatever "angels" had shown that woman how to access a few of the Europa United's most encrypted channels and databases (how else would she know the things she had hinted to?), he nearly didn`t notice as the waiter appeared once more and poured a red liquid into his glass that would have lifted his mood on any other day: but now his hands were simply trembling as he grasped the glass and brought it up for a drink….but something stopped him as he looked into this blue eyes once more. An intelligent glint had taken over the playful friendliness from before and the woman said softly as she brought her own glass up:

"…my name minister: I promised to tell you, didn`t I?"

Reaching into the bag hanging from the chair she was sitting on -a movement that nearly made the minister jump out of his chair and the guards spread through the restaurant most likely too- she pulled out a little tablet and placed it down before him with a dangerous smirk:

"My name is VV and the angels have send me to stop the Ragnarok….",

Her fingertips gently tapped against the small electronic deveice, even as the minister wondered whatever delusion made her mix Nordic tales into her words now. But all other issues were driven from his mind as he listened to her words:

"…and this are the names, funds and organizations, which have bought the media in the last few days to protest against your reform plan, as well as the leaks, which allowed them to know about it and plan accordingly."

Taking the tablet slowly, not taking his eyes off her before a second…before glancing at the device and freezing as row after row of neat lines were slowly unrevealing the different oppositions that had seemingly appeared overnight. Names and bank accounts, connections and aims: all compiled into dozens of pages of neat reports, with a smaller summary that allowed him to connect everything far easier.

Delving into the net that had been spun around him, he didn`t notice as the Artificial Intelligence known as "VV" gazed out through the window of the restaurant over the Seine and at the Place de la Concorde, humming softly to herself:

„ _Do what the Angels say!  
Heads will roll as you lob them off,  
the work for the angels never stops~_ "


End file.
